


so light the fuse, hold me close, too young to lose

by gavorn



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 06:36:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10893756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gavorn/pseuds/gavorn
Summary: "when hank finds out his new lab partner is alex summers his first reaction is relief, followed shortly by confusion as to why he isn't terrified. this girl was kicked out ofsixother schools. rumor was that she'dstabbedsomeone. with apen. hank doubts that's entirely true, but he'd rather not take his chances."or, alex is trans and hank is clueless: a high school au.





	so light the fuse, hold me close, too young to lose

**Author's Note:**

> this story deals with a trans character who is closeted for most of the first half of the story, as such he will be dealing with being misgendered often, so if you're particularly sensitive to that please be cautious about reading.  
> i am a trans male myself, if that helps reassure anyone!

 

when hank found out the magnet school was opening, he decided he was going to go there and god help anyone who tried to stop him.  
his mother did, first. she said it was too far for her to drive him every morning. “i’ll take the bus,” hank said firmly, and she sighed at him and said “remember what happened last time you took buses?”  
(hank did remember, he sat by himself every day and was whispered about and nobody woke him up when he fell asleep, which had lead to one eventful morning at the bus depot.)  
she knew him, though, and she could recognize the set of his jaw, knew that there was nothing she could say to talk him out of this.  
and that’s how hank was enrolled at goodman public high school for the gifted and talented.

it’s exactly as much of a pain as she expected it to be. hank wakes up at five every morning, because he doesn’t like showering at night and he needs time to get dressed - yes, he likes to look nice, so sue him. he’s a nerd, he’s accepted it.  
the first day was awkward. it’s alright, hank had been prepared for that situation. english class c block was where it got complicated, though, because he hadn’t been prepared to fall in love with his english teacher and subsequently be adopted by his little sister. (hank absolutely did not swoon when charles had started reciting a monologue from a midsummer night’s dream, no matter what anyone says later.)  
and once raven liked him, hank was suddenly and unquestionably absorbed into the school’s social stratosphere, for better or for worse. he’s invited to things, even if he doesn’t go half the time; he doesn’t date but it’s by choice and not lack of options. it’s a new experience for him.  
(hank had met raven when she’d turned to him and asked if he’d actually read midsummer, then asked what exactly charles was supposed to be saying, and then she’d spotted the tiny, sad little rainbow sticker on the inside of his notebook as a little promise to himself and from then on she was determined to be friends with him. it was strange for hank but definitely not unpleasant.)

their school is small enough that everybody knows everybody else, even if they aren’t friends. hank quickly grows familiar with the students and the faculty. he feels kind of safe, which is a new feeling for him at school - he hasn’t exactly been bullied, say, but he’s never had _friends_ before either.  
freshman year at his last school had been a train wreck. sophomore year at goodman was perfect. junior year is where things start to get messy again.

  
when hank finds out his new lab partner is alex summers his first reaction is relief, followed shortly by confusion as to why he isn't terrified. this girl was kicked out of _six_ other schools. rumor was that she'd _stabbed_ someone. with a _pen_. hank doubts that's entirely true, but he'd rather not take his chances. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for new students - people came and went, transferring to or from other public schools. hank is one of the ones who attends for the accelerated curriculum opportunities. alex summers is one of the ones who attends because it’s the only school in the area she hasn’t been kicked out of yet.

she doesn’t talk to anyone much, so even three weeks into the semester when dr. banner (like there’s any way in hell hank is going to refer to him as bruce) finally assigns their partners for the semester, nobody’s quite sure what her story is. there’s a lot of conflicting rumors, but the consensus seems to be that she lives with her brother, hates everyone, and she’s done some _terrible_ things. hank prefers giving people the benefit of the doubt, but he’s seen the way alex glares when people bump into her, and he thinks it’s better for everyone if he stays out of her way entirely.  
but he’s not scared of her.

it’s irrational, really. hank doesn’t have a real reason besides that he sees her in the hall sometimes when she thinks nobody’s around, how she folds in on herself, tired and small and completely different from the way she usually keeps her back straight and chin high, proud and angry. she looks vulnerable. hank’s not in any position to judge, and he doesn’t want to make her feel self conscious about it, so he doesn’t say anything about it, not even to raven. raven means well, but she can’t keep a secret for the life of her. hank thinks it’s a side effect from how oddly open she and charles are with each other.

dr. banner assigns the partners. hank’s not worried about it. he’s more than competent in physics, even if his partner naps during every experiment hank is still going to do perfectly. and there’s not even anyone he’s particularly uncomfortable with - mostly because raven hears everything, and raven is a direct line to charles, and when charles hears something he doesn’t like he goes straight to their principal steve, and steve has a zero tolerance personality for any kind of injustice. it’s kind of nice, in a slightly freaky way. the few times hank’s had trouble the offending personalities have been called to the main office less than a period later.

so hank is ready, because he knows even if alex says something to him he’s safe. hank is safe here. he still marvels at it.  
it’s uneventful, for the most part. alex doesn’t speak when it’s not absolutely necessary, and when she does it’s low and hoarse enough hank can barely hear more than mumbles. the first time he asks her to repeat something he’s anxious as hell.  
“i didn’t hear you,” hank says, leg shaking so much he’s pretty sure the entire table is vibrating. “sorry.”  
alex swipes a hand through her short hair and hank gets a quick glance at her eyes. she doesn’t look angry, more confused and a little thoughtful. “i asked which experiment you’d rather do,” she says.  
hank is pretty sure the relief on his face is evident, if the way her lip quirks like she’s biting back a smile is any indicator.

it’s different, from there on. hank can’t put his finger on when he stops being nervous to speak to her. she’s easy to talk to, once he’s past the initial anxiety. quiet, but so is hank, and it’s a nice change of pace from raven, who can’t stand silence. hank likes a balance. he thinks he’s got a pretty good one at the moment.  
he doesn’t see her much outside of physics for the first few weeks. it’s not until he’s going home early for a family thing that he notices her in the hallway alone, not eating, just quietly folded in, eyes shut but hank knows she’s still alert. he immediately feels guilty for not noticing her absence during lunch sooner, can’t think of a single time he’s seen her in the caf before at all. his mom won’t be there for another ten or so minutes, because hank likes to be ready early, and he’s got enough caffeine in his system from lunch coffee that he takes the impulse and sits next to her before he’s sure what he’s doing.  
she looks up at him like he’s the one people are afraid of. it’s so alien to hank it’s almost laughable.  
“hey,” he says awkwardly.  
“hey.” her face is unreadable.  
they sit quietly until hank’s mother arrives outside. it’s kind of nice.

that’s the point where hank starts thinking that maybe they can be something close to friends. alex still doesn’t say much beyond the occasional “yeah” or “that’s bullshit” all delivered in the same deadpan tone, but she always listens to whatever hank has to ramble on about. he appreciates it. there’s moments when she seems so apathetic hank’s not sure what he’s even attempting to do at all. maybe not friends. maybe they can be friends-adjacent. he can work with that.

and little by little, alex starts opening up. it’s just orphaned facts at first without context, things like “my brother was so pissed at me about my homework last night” and “i was arrested once”. hank files them all carefully away. he can be patient enough to wait for things to start making sense. he’s not going to rush her.  
hank isn’t really sure when he got so good at being friends with people, but he’s pretty impressed by himself.

and then one day, they’re leaving physics, and hank is slipping his notebook back in his backpack when alex blurts “scott wants to know if you’ll comeoverfordinner.” the words blur together like she’s hoping he won’t hear. she’s almost- hesitant? hank doesn’t think he’s seen alex hesitant before.  
“can you repeat that?” he asks apologetically.  
“scott,” she says, pausing, “sorry, that’s my brother, scott. he wants to know if you’ll, y’know, come over.”  
this is a lot of new information for hank. alex’s brother is named scott. alex has talked to scott about hank. alex has talked about hank enough that scott wants to meet him.  
he blinks a few times. alex’s face gets that blank, vaguely-hostile look again. she starts to walk away.  
“don’t,” hank says before he can process, and she turns to look at him with what might be hope. “i mean, yes, of course, i’d love to.” it’s december now and hank’s gotten alex to smile exactly eighteen times so far. he’s not sure why he keeps track other than it’s something of an achievement.  
make that nineteen.  
“yeah,” alex says, going for nonchalance but failing. “okay. i’ll text you.”

hank isn’t lacking for friends, but he doesn’t really spend time with anyone one-on-one besides raven, and raven is exuberant enough to count as at least two friends all on her own. he’s not sure what to expect. they take alex’s bus home; it’s a different one from hank’s and he only vaguely knows the town. she lives much closer to the school than he does, to be fair, his bus ride every day is almost half an hour each way.  
she doesn’t talk to him on the ride. once they reach her house, there’s more energy to her step. she swings the door open and calls “hey, asshole, i’m home,” but she’s grinning wider than hank has ever seen before. he’s not sure what to make of the transformation. it’s like coming inside increased her confidence about 300%. hank understands. he’s well practiced using different faces for the public himself, and besides, it’s not like she’s a different person, just that she’s more herself.  
hank isn’t normally so inarticulate. something about alex grinning without restraint and leaning over the table to punch scott’s shoulder is just kind of disarming.

the house is shabby, but in a comfortable kind of way, with almost as many strewn notebooks and cables that hank is at ease almost immediately. scott’s got some tech position - he starts explaining, but alex groans until he’s laughing enough to drop the subject. it seems like a familiar routine for them. after dinner scott excuses himself and for a second alex seems unsure again, shoving hair out of her face in a nervous gesture hank’s come to recognize.  
hank bites his lip and hesitantly says “scott said you still have a working gamecube…?” it’s been years since he’s even thought of the console, he’d switched to pc when he was around twelve and hadn’t looked back, but right now the idea of playing mario kart with alex seems, oddly enough, like the most appealing thing in the world.  
her grin is back. she plays king boo and baby bowser and insists they’re badass. hank is a luigi and yoshi kind of guy, himself.  
(she kicks his ass.)

everything gets a little quicker from there, somehow. alex is just as important a part of hank’s life as even raven now. they text every day, and alex still doesn’t take any invitations to group events but they start spending a lot of time together outside of school anyway. hank doesn’t mind. he likes it just being the two of them. alex is excellent company, even if she has a lot of stories that end with _and then i punched him_ or _so i got suspended_ that leave hank’s throat kind of tight in a way he can’t really explain.  
they’re sitting on alex’s bed watching the sun set out her window. she’s got a bottle of peach schnapps scott had very loudly insisted he knows nothing about, and they’ve been drinking a little, enough that alex is a little giggly and hank is about halfway to drunk. he doesn’t drink often, doesn’t like having his guard down; he’d made the mistake of drinking too much at a party one time previously and vowed never to again. he feels safe here, though. alex wouldn’t let anything happen to him. the worst case scenario, she ends up with a little more blackmail material.  
alex is sitting upright, and the alcohol has hank boneless and flopped upside down, staring up at her throat. she looks down at him and smiles, a little soft one he’s only ever seen with scott before, and hank thinks he kind of wants to kiss her.  
he closes his eyes. he’s more drunk than he thought.

it takes him only a few more minutes to fall asleep. by the time he wakes, alex has curled up on a pile of blankets on her floor, and hank can’t help but smile that even tipsy alex went out of her way to make sure hank had personal space, because she knows how he gets about physical contact. he appreciates it, even if he’s pretty sure he doesn’t mind very much (at all) with alex by now. the thought is still important.

it’s two weeks later that they’re in hank’s room for the first time. he hadn’t intentionally been avoiding having alex over, but he sees the hope in his mother’s eyes that he brought a girl home, sees alex tense at the family photos lining the hall and he thinks maybe he should’ve put it off longer after all.  
he takes her down to the basement, and things are better once they’re in his room. it’s a little messier than the rest of the house, piles of papers and books and what raven refers to as geek shit everywhere, pictures from the hubble telescope taped carefully around hank’s bed, and alex visibly relaxes.  
they made a cd together.. it’s not a mix tape or anything like that, just songs they’d thought the other would appreciate, flatsound and hotel books from hank because something about the sadness and the anger and honesty to the words reminds him of alex; iamx and the bravery from alex, who shrugs when he asks what made her decide. she’d told him his music was too depressing so he’d made sure to add there is a light that never goes out. he’d insisted hers was too angry and disharmonic, which he can only assume is the reason behind closer and the way she grins when he flings a pillow at her after hearing the opening notes.

they end up on his bed in companionable silence, content to listen and not feel the need to talk, and it’’s so far from being awkward that it makes hank’s stomach hurt a little.  
the cd ends and alex is just staring at him with something dark and still in her eyes. hank watches the way her hair falls around her cheekbones, her teeth clamped down on the inside of her lower lip and fights away something close to butterflies.  
she's still looking right back at him. hank's breaths are shallow, like he's trying to preserve a moment he doesn't even understand.  
alex leans in slowly, her eyes locked on hank's. he doesn't lean away.  
it's a chaste kiss. before all this hank would have assumed she'd be an aggressive kisser, all teeth and tongue and anger. not that he'd thought about it often, or anything. because he was gay. and alex was a girl.  
she pulls back and hank has gotten good enough at reading alex’s expressions that he's definitely sure this is the most vulnerable he's seen her and mostly sure she's scared of something. hank tries to look anywhere besides her eyes and notices her arm is shaking where she's braced it on the bed. hank thinks about the tiny pride flag on his desk, about his mother asking if he was sure it wasn't just a phase.  
“i’m gay,” hank says. his mouth feels cold around the words. something shutters shut on alex’s face and she straightens her back, shifts so she's as far from hank as she can get. he can't figure out her expression when she says “i know.” there's a tension to her jaw that hadn't been present a second ago and hank thinks if he had to pick a label it would be disappointment or resignation or even just anger - she's not angry at him, he knows that much, because she always tells him exactly when and why she's angry with him. nobody else is around.  
she must be angry with herself, then, hank supposes. he knows she doesn't have the highest opinion of herself, but he’d thought maybe something had changed, somehow, stupidly.  
they sit there quietly avoiding eye contact for another four minutes (hank counts). alex stands up abruptly and says “i have to go.” she's up the stairs and then out the door before hank can process what just happened.

she doesn’t respond to his texts for the rest of the weekend. hank can take a hint. she’s hurt, which is reasonable, he just wishes he hadn’t been the one to hurt her. he should’ve noticed sooner and done something to let her down gently. she’d known, hadn’t she? he had definitely mentioned it, hesitant the first time because he doesn’t know yet if she’s some kind of violent homophobe; eventually he was telling her all the things he hadn’t even admitted to himself about coming out to his mom and how disappointed she’d been despite her support, things he hadn’t even told raven because he loves her dearly but he really doesn’t want charles thinking about hank’s parental issues when he reads his english homework.  
she definitely knew.  
apparently hank had gotten her hopes up anyway.

she’s not in school on monday. hank isn’t too worried at first, alex is known to skip on a whim, and scott doesn’t force her to go if she doesn’t want to. when she’s missing on tuesday, hank starts being concerned, but he doesn’t call because he wants her to have her space. he leaves a text that says “missed you today” and tries to put it out of his mind.  
wednesday she comes back. hank tries not to make a big deal about it, but he can’t help the relief on his face when he sees her. “hey,” he says, trying to be casual and failing, and she looks a little sad and a little scared and maybe a tiny bit hopeful when she says “hey yourself.”  
the rest of the day is uneventful. they start a workshop on lasers in physics, which alex should be thrilled about, but she just looks kind of apprehensive. on the way out of class, she gently but firmly grabs his arm, asks if he’d come over, looking almost as shy as that first time she’d asked. hank texts his mom for permission, wishes he didn’t have to text his mom for permission, receives permission, and follows alex home.

they sit on her bed, shoes still on, silent. it’s tense. hank doesn’t like it.  
both of them start to speak at the same time. alex insists hank go first.  
“...are you okay?” he asks lamely.  
alex looks a little touched for a second, then shakes her head and says “yeah, yeah, i’m fine.”  
there’s quiet again. hank wonders what she was going to say.  
“i’m trans.”  
oh.  
_oh._  
she’s curled up with her arms around her knees, staring at the discolored spot on the wall resolutely.  
“can you clarify?” hank asks, and immediately hates himself for it.  
“i’m a guy,” alex says, tension clear like hank is going to challenge the statement.  
“oh,” is all he can say. “okay.” there’s a lot of mental shuffling being done.  
“okay?”  
she- no, he’s still nervous, but there’s a little bit of relief there now, too. hank isn’t sure what to say, and he’s not exactly a touchy-feely kind of guy, but he hugs alex anyway.


End file.
